There is a certain majesty in simplicity which is far above all the quaintness of wit.

A generous friendship no cold medium knows, Burns with one love, with one resentment glows.

I as little fear that God will damn a man that has charity, as I hope that the priests can save one who has not.

Women, as they are like riddles in being unintelligible, so generally resemble them in this, that they please us no longer once we know them.

On her white breast a sparkling cross she wore, Which Jews might kiss and infidels adore.

A person who is too nice an observer of the business of the crowd, like one who is too curious in observing the labor of bees, will often be stung for his curiosity.

Here hills and vales, the woodland and the plain Here earth and water seem to strive again, Not chaos-like together crushed and bruised, But, as the world, harmoniously confused: Where order in variety we see, And where, though all things differ, all agree.